


Let's Not Fight in Vegas

by YesIsAWorld



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/pseuds/YesIsAWorld
Summary: Louis really should have told Nick that he was head over heels before Nick and Harry walked down the aisle.





	Let's Not Fight in Vegas

**FRIDAY NIGHT**

Louis is too drunk for this. He isn’t even _drunk_ drunk—he is still standing—but he’s tipsy enough to be uncomfortable standing up here in front of their friends. His neck itches from the starched shirt and too hot chapel. He sways occasionally and probably hasn’t kept his thoughts to himself. 

His phone is already out and in his hand, and as the officiant drones on and on he types out a message to Liam. “Bad idea.” Then he puts it back up in the air so Liam can continue to listen to what’s happening. 

A moment later he’s leaning against the jukebox, one hand on Bressie’s shoulder as he tries to steady himself. Bressie and Niall are pressed close together on one of the black faux leather benches Louis thinks are meant to replicate the look of pews. The floor under him swirls, a dizzying array of red and black and white; the carpet pattern looks like someone has spread several decks of cards out. The numbers and suits blur together until Louis blinks enough times to snap them back into focus. “Okay, there?” Bressie steadies Louis with a hand to his waist.

“’M fine.” His stomach lurches dangerously. 

The proceedings stop for a moment. He can feel Harry and Nick looking at him. This is all a terrible idea but he can’t ruin Nick’s life. Harry will be good for Nick. Louis looks past them, at the neon fishtank that stands at the makeshift altar. Greenish bubbles float to the top of the black light tank. 

Louis looks up to let out a deep breath. Air. He really needs air. The mirrored ceiling, distorting everything surrounding Louis, isn’t helping. He grips the jukebox tighter to make sure he doesn’t tumble onto Bressie and Niall, they don’t deserve that, and he’s proud of the phone still in his hand. Liam missed the flight, but he is still sorta with them. Hasn’t yet dropped him at least.

Louis zones back into the proceedings just as he hears, “...forever hold your peace.” 

He was never any good at that. 

“I object!” he slurs. “This is, uh, a, bad idea.” He holds up his phone. “Liam agrees!”

Liam’s tinny through the speaker but Louis still hears, “Fucking hell, Tommo.”

The next thing Louis knows, Nick—tall, beautiful, funny, sober, very sober right now, Nick—grabs him by the shoulder and shuffles him past the private blackjack table and out into the hallway. 

But Nick is not beautiful or funny right now. He’s angry. Angrier than Louis has ever seen him. Louis’s not sure he was even this red faced and sputtering when a dare gone wrong sent Louis crashing into—onto—Nick’s carefully preserved record player. “Why do you hate me?”

Louis’ mouth is too dry to answer. He knows his words are going to come out flat and boring and probably slurred compared to Nick’s perfectly enunciated English accent. Even his voice is super fucking hot which is unfair, really. 

Plus, Louis doesn’t even know where to begin. 

Luckily, Nick starts for him. “For years, this whole time, I thought the bickering was our thing. Like, that’s just what our friendship was based off of. I didn’t think you really… Harry’s my one chance. He won’t do this unless you give your blessing. And I need…” 

“Whaddaya need?”

“Him. I need him to say yes to this. It’s my whole life we’re talking about.”

Louis sways again, then stumbles back a few steps, his back hits the gaudy wallpaper with a thud. 

“Lou, please. I need you to pull yourself together and come back in there with me—”

“It’s ugly.”

“Lou…”

“The room is so ugly. Can’t… No one should get married there.”

“Right.” Nick steps in front of Louis, cups his jaw in his hands, and looks him in the eye. Nick’s face swims in front of Louis. “I need you to walk back in and be our witness. That was the deal.”

“Harry shouldn’t marry you.” It’s important that Nick knows this. 

Nick’s anger, the twitch of his eye, is softening, but he’s still got a hard set to his jaw. “I know you want what’s best for Harry. But this…” he falters. “Harry agreed. _You_ agreed. Please. Lou. I’m begging.”

Nick’s so close that Louis could tip forward and kiss him. 

Instead, Nick’s face slides sideways and everything goes black. 

 

 

**SATURDAY**

Louis wakes up in the morning with a pounding head and dry mouth that makes him think something crawled in there and died while he was passed out. The groan he lets out tickles something in the back of his throat and despite the spinning room, he flees to the bathroom, hoping to make it in time. His shins are cold and uncomfortable, pressed against the hard tile. He wants to know whose great idea it was for them to get so wasted the night before. But then he remembers the night before and knows it was _his_ great idea. 

Once he’s steady on his feet, he brushes his teeth and drinks a glass of water. Maybe if he’s able to fall back into bed and sleep for the next day he can pretend that he didn’t have to watch Harry and Nick tie the knot. But, when he walks out of the bathroom, he finds a shirtless Harry propped up by a mountain of pillows somehow looking mutinous and sleep-rumpled at the same time. 

“Couldn’t you have thrown up a little quieter?” Harry reaches down and scratches what Louis assumes are his balls. 

“Why the fuck are you naked in my bed instead of with your husband?” Louis faceplants into a starfish on his side of the bed. 

“Someone had to make sure you weren’t going to choke on your own vomit.” 

Louis moans, a long drawn out sound. 

“Do you remember any of last night?” Harry prods. 

“That god awful fish tank.”

“Hm.” 

Louis pulls the duvet over his head. He’d really like Harry to leave now. “Don’t think I’m in danger of dying at the moment, if you want to go consummate the marriage now.” 

“Fuck, Lou, Jesus. We’re not… Please tell me you know that it’s really not like that between us.”

Louis shrugs best as he can while still hiding. “Whatever.”

“Better question is actually why you’d care if we were.”

“I don’t.”

There’s a rustle and Louis breaks out in goosebumps as Harry yanks the duvet to the floor. “Hey, dickbag, you can’t avoid this.”

“What the actual fuck, H?”

“We didn’t get married.” His disapproving dad voice means this is Louis’ fault. 

That changes things a bit. “Oh.” Louis fumbles to sit up and turn around. 

“High level review: you got tanked. You told the officiant that the wedding was a bad idea. Then passed out in the hallway.” 

Louis wishes he had a tall, cold glass of water. Maybe it would stop his head from imploding. “Right, well. Still coulda gotten hitched.” The thread count of the sheets is severely lacking. Louis has never felt the urge to shake off anything touching him and run to the shower as much as he does in this moment. 

It’s just because he’s dehydrated and needs to be dunked in a bath. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Don’t know how many times we went over this. You knew the deal. I wasn’t about to end our friendship over this. I quite like Nick but not enough to lose you.”

“Fucking sap.”

“You have to tell him though. I’d rather you get your shit together now than have to pick up the pieces after he’s gone. You’re,” Harry presses his thumb and pointer finger together, the tips of both turning white, “this close to literally losing him forever.”

The unsteady roll of Louis’ stomach has him scrambling up and rushing to the bathroom. He throws his middle finger up right before he grabs the edge of the door to pull it closed behind him. 

“Clean yourself up.” Harry knocks twice on the door as Louis dry heaves. “See you down at the casino.”

✩✩✩

The long, hot shower helps, as does the slice of cold pizza left on the dresser that Louis slowly manages to swallow down. Once he’s back to mostly functioning, he makes his way to the elevator, hoping that Harry has the set of room keys since he has no idea where his is, and gets off on the casino floor. The Cosmo is fucking huge and the dizzying array of options on the first floor give him pause. He takes a moment. The flashing lights and dinging slot machines and smoky stale air makes him sway in place as he tries to keep down another wave of nausea. 

He does a slow lap, weaving through the gamblers, until he turns a corner and sees everyone gathered around a craps table. Niall and Bressie look surprisingly rested and chipper; well fucked if Louis’ guessing. And Liam. For some reason Liam is here. Louis comes to him first, hugging his back and pinning his arms to his sides. 

Louis thought when Liam missed the plane he’d miss the whole weekend. He hates the drive through the desert from LA to Vegas. “What the fuck, dude?”

“Decided to drive out. Expensive as fuck, but thought it might be important.” 

“Right.” Louis clears his throat and doesn’t miss how everyone else seems to be ignoring him. Zayn, Harry, Pixie, Daisy, Rita, and Alexa are in a huddle on the other side of the table, deciding where to place their chips. The dealer raises an eyebrow as if to ask if he’s in, and all Louis can manage is to weakly wave him off. 

And Nick. Nick’s standing right behind them. He’s got a deep line creasing his forehead and his mouth is pursed. He looks about as bad as he possibly could, not only washed out but bags under his eyes, limp hair, chapped lips. He’s still breathtaking and Louis hates that he is probably, definitely, the cause of the distress, and wants to kiss the worry off his face. Which he can’t do, because they’re just pals. Mates, if he’s mocking Nick. Which he tends to do. 

There’s just no way out of this that Louis can see. He’s going to have to apologize for fucking up the entirety of Nick’s life; he knows that it’s his fault. There’s a pretty good chance that Nick is never going to forgive him. This isn’t like the time he replaced Nick’s shampoo with some high-end dog shampoo or slowly stole his entire closet and hid his clothes around the apartment one designer t-shirt at a time. 

Nick seems to blink himself out of his daze and look up as Louis is still staring. The worry turns hard in a moment and his eyes flash something dangerous, and he’s off, quickly walking away from the group, away from Louis, and toward the doors leading out into the midday heat. 

Louis’ so busy watching him stalk off, swallowing thickly at the fucking mess he made, that he doesn’t even notice that everyone else is glaring at him. 

Rita crosses the table first, coming right up to Louis and poking him in the chest with an accusatory finger. “Fix this.”

“I—” 

“No.” She’s a ball of energy one hundred percent of the time, but now she’s a fireball, the anger radiating out from her tightly wound muscles. “This is on you.”

What little defiance Louis has left deflates. He flicked his eyes to the solemn group before him, no one disagreeing. 

“Lou,” Zayn bites his lip before continuing; a sure sign Louis is going to hate the truth he is about to serve. Zayn’s his fiercest defender, but also refuses to accept his bullshit. “We all know what this is about. Maybe it’s time to clue Nick in?”

Louis opens his mouth to disagree, but clearly all his friends have ganged up on him. There are a few slight nods and no one is rushing to his defense. Something in his chest cracks, how transparent he’s apparently been this whole time fills in the spaces of worry and doubt. The self-consciousness he’s normally able to tamp down with humor and snark is on full display. 

His throat’s too dry to speak, so he takes a few steps back, then follows in Nick’s footsteps without another word. 

The off-kilter feeling of his hangover, the slightly out-of-body, molasses slow thing that is going on in his brain never quite went away in the casino, but comes roaring back like a speeding train the moment he steps out into the dry sizzle of the sun. And of course he left his sunglasses in his room. He stumbles a bit, taking a moment to swallow down the bile that’s threatening to rise again, and steadies himself against a sticky garbage can, just in case. He opens his eyes and it takes a second for the crowds walking by to slide into focus. Of course, Nick is nowhere to be found and Louis has zero idea which direction he might have walked. 

Picking a random direction based on the traffic light in his favor, Louis crosses the street and heads towards the Bellagio. He gets as far as the awning directly across the street and pulls out his phone in the respite from the direct sunlight. He taps out a message to Nick. As he types out ‘I’m sorry. I fucked up. I love you. Please love me back,’ he knows he’s going to delete it all. A fucked up part of his brain thinks he might as well send it now that he’s typed it and his thumb hovers over the send button for a second too long then snaps up to turn the phone off before he does something he’ll truly regret. 

His diaphragm clenches and heaves and for the love of god who let him drink that much last night. 

He takes yet another steadying breath and breathes out through this mouth. He notices that everyone around him is maintaining a wide berth and he can’t blame them. 

Louis brings the phone to life again and deletes the message. He replaces it with ‘We need to talk.’ And then a second message. ‘Where’d ya go?’

It’s far more direct than anything he’s ever sent Nick before; a quick scroll reveals a motley mix of undecipherable emoji combinations, outdated memes, and mild insults.

If this all goes south, which it undoubtedly will, he’ll need Niall to show him how to properly flirt so he can stop being such a walking disaster.

He scrolls back down and the ‘delivered’ notification has changed to ‘read,’ but there’s no indication that Nick plans on responding. 

There’s a stream of curses on his tongue aimed at the developers of this city. He’s pretty sure there’s a CVS or something across the street in the row of shops where he could stock up on Gatorade and bananas and Advil to get through the afternoon, but there’s no way to cross the fuckton of lanes standing in his way without walking a few blocks. He checks his phone again even though he knows that Nick won’t have responded, then resigns himself to walking back to the Cosmo. He heads straight up to the pool on the fourth floor roof—he thinks he remembers something about waiters—and finds a chaise that’s mostly in the shade. He checks his phone one last time before pocketing it and slides into sleep despite the shrieking and splashing happening in front of him. 

✩✩✩

Louis wakes up to droplets of cold water dripping on his face. He struggles to open his eyes and sit up. As he lets out an obnoxious yawn that he doesn’t even try to cover up, he realizes that he feels about a million times better than he did before he passed out. 

“You snore.”

Louis turns slowly, shading his eyes with his hand, to see Nick and Harry standing above him with their arms linked. For one blissful moment Louis forgets about what a total fuckup this trip has been and it’s just the three of them, like normal, like it always is. Roomies forever.

Harry’s swipes his hand down his water bottle, collecting condensation, then flicks it towards Louis. 

“Come off it, Nick.” Louis rolls his neck. “We all know you’re the loudest of the three of us.” This is patently untrue since they had once done an experiment and recorded themselves at night to compare their snores and end the ongoing debate. Turns out Louis also talks in his sleep, may have uttered Nick’s name a time or two that night, and thankfully was smart enough to listen to it and promptly delete it before letting his roommates hear. Harry’s actually the loudest. They all know that. But it’s more fun to accuse Nick of the atrocity. 

Nick rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“You going to come with us to dinner? Or literally sleep all day?” Harry’s poking Nick in the side, trying to coax a smile out of him, Louis’ tried and true method, but he’s clearly talking to Louis. 

“Yeah, I’m up.” Louis wonders if they’re still going to eat at Mon Ami at the Paris. It was planned for their group dinner as a faux-honeymoon for Nick and Harry, who are still linked arm in arm above him. He shakily stands and hopes they’re just grabbing quick sandwiches or something before going out for more drinks; nothing much to celebrate now. 

Louis knows he’s being a little shit but can’t stop himself from poking Nick’s free side, right below his ribcage, a spot his hand could probably find in pitch black from how often his fingers attack. “You never texted back.”

His response is flat and Louis knows he deserves worse than “I did, you fucking wanker.”

Louis pulls out his phone to see that Nick did in fact text back “in my room” hours ago.

“Oh.” 

“Right, well…” Harry breaks the tension with his usual lack of subtlety. “I need a shower. You boys coming down?”

Nick passes the decision making to Louis with a shrug. 

“My room?” Louis asks. If Louis is going to do this, and he needs to do this, he’d rather be in his own room so when Nick rejects him at least he can preserve a little dignity. 

The three of them share a quiet elevator ride to their floor. Harry pulls out Louis’ room key from his pocket and hands it over as the elevator dings, then they peel off, Harry going to his and Nick’s room as Louis walks a step in front of Nick on the way to his own room. 

Nick walks in and and hums, muttering “maid’s come” as Louis flips the door guard out of habit. Nick’s standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and makes no move to join Louis as he sits on the bed. 

Louis looks up at him; one foot hooked around his other ankle, fingers fiddling with his array of bracelets, and though his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, he’s staring intently at Louis. Now that they’re here, alone, without the buffer of Harry or jokes, there’s the tension that Louis has tried desperately to avoid. They’re not making eye contact; Louis traces the pattern on the duvet and the few times he glances up at Nick he’s still untangling the mess of jewelry even though the bracelets are always tangled together. There’s a reason why the past two years they haven’t had any heart to heart talks, choosing instead the protection of television and concerts and friends to buffer their interactions. 

“Right.” Louis starts to pick at the inseam of his pants, yanking an errant thread. He wonders how much it would take for the whole thing to unravel. “Turns out I didn’t want you to marry Harry.”

Nick rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Yeah. That was made abundantly clear.”

“Yeah… guess so.”

He knows he’ll have to give a reason; if he was in Nick’s position he’d demand an answer. But he demands things of Nick all the time—attention and arguments—and Nick is a worthy opponent but not likely to initiate the spar. There’s a possibility that Nick’ll call a truce and they’ll walk away, the only real casualty being Louis’ heart. 

“I know this fucks things up. And I know it’s not worth much, but I really am sorry.”

Nick furrows his eyebrows. 

“Please believe me, really, I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t want to make excuses. I know it was shitty, but I am sorry.”

Nick opens his mouth. Then licks his lips before trying again. “Are you though?”

“Fuck.” Louis props his elbows on his knees and hides his face in his hands. 

“I’m trying to understand,” Nick says. “I know we’re not like… close? That um, I dunno, you never, I guess liked me.”

Louis’ head snaps up. “Wait, you really think—” 

“So I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t want me to marry your best friend. Even if it was just so I could stay in the country.” Nick looks bashful, like this is somehow hard for him to say, which is ridiculous. At the very least he deserves an explanation. 

“That’s not…” Louis has no idea how to do this. This whole thing is such a disaster. If Harry had just gone ahead and gotten married like he was supposed to, Louis wouldn’t be in this mess. 

“But maybe like, if there was something I did, that made you hate me, can you just… Maybe I can stop, whatever it is, so I’m not, like, uh…” He clears his throat. “Hated. In the future.”

Louis lets out a loud breath. He’s such a shithead. “There’s nothing… It’s just me. I’m just an asshole.” 

But so is Nick. How can he be thick enough to think Louis _hates_ him?

The bed dips as Nick sits, perching on the edge, as far as Louis as he can get. “You’re not,” Nick says quietly. “Not with anyone else. And not really with me, either.”

Louis’ heart is absolutely pounding. He needs to say it, needs to give it one last ditch effort before losing Nic forever. He looks up to see Nick looking like his world is crashing down on him. “Um…” He supposes that it is. 

“I thought, like we had this banter—”

“What the fuck?” Louis’s surprised by how loud he’s being. 

“But it was all good hearted, yeah?” Nick keeps on. “We could keep up with each other?”

“Of course.”

“But I’m not… did I read that all wrong?” Nick shakes his head. “This is like, quicksand. I’ve spent all day evaluating what else I’m wrong about.”

There is a quick inhale and Louis holds what he can in his lungs until there’s a short shout from his brain as the edges go fuzzy. “God, I hate you. Sometimes you can be so stupid.” He means it to sound powerful, believable, instead it’s barely a whisper. He’s pictured this moment, imagined himself brave enough to tell Nick how he really feels, and it’s never started like that. “You stupid, stupid boy.” He still can barely get out the next part. “I like you.”

Nick snorts. “Think we’ve established you don’t.”

“No, listen.” He glances at Nick, then looks straight ahead. These hotel rooms scream sex and this is the most awkward conversation he’s ever had. From his bed he’s looking straight into the glass-paneled shower. He claps one hand over his other to mask the shakes. “I _like_ , like you. Like, in that way…” Louis fades off because that was probably the least eloquent way he could’ve said it. “So… yeah…” he tacks on at the end. 

Nick tilts his head and looks at him like he’s speaking Dutch and has sprouted a second nose. The longer Nick doesn’t say anything, the more convinced Louis is that he’s going to be sick again. 

Nick shakes his head. “Wait.” 

Louis doesn’t have anything else to say so Nick’s command isn’t hard. He’s clasping his hand so hard that his fingertips have turned an unnatural red, but by now the shaking has kicked up a notch. 

At least Nick’ll be fucking off to England in the near future, so if Louis doesn’t die of embarrassment, hopefully he can bury this all inside of him and forget it ever happened. 

“I like like you too.”

Louis’ head snaps toward Nick. It feels like a cruel joke. He can’t read Nick’s face at all, there’s too much there to try and parse out. “What do you mean?” 

Nick slides so his thigh is pressed up against Louis’. “I mean…” He moves in slowly, like he’s trying not to spook Louis, which is a very good move on his part. Louis’s afraid his brain is shorting out as he watches Nick’s hazel eyes flick down to his mouth and back up to his eyes. He arches a brow in a question as the corners of his mouth turn up. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages.” Louis lets out a nervous snort, and can’t help his smile as Nick draws closer. 

“No, that’s not true.” Louis feels like he’s being punked. Things like this never actually work out for him. 

“Fuck you,” Nick says, laughing. “Of course it’s true.”

“Fuck you!” Louis screeches. He cringes a bit when he hears himself. “I can’t believe you never said anything.” 

Nick swipes a lock of hair across Louis’ forehead with his thumb. “You’re the absolute worst.” Louis practically melts into the soft touch, leaning forward to keep the contact longer than necessary. 

Louis wants Nick to kiss him. Of course he does, he’s wanted that forever, but now Nick is so close and was probably not joking about wanting to kiss him and it might actually happen. With each of Nick’s warm exhales on his cheek, his whole body tingles, like he’s an electric wire that needs to be grounded. 

Louis slides his eyes from Nick’s lips to his eyes and he murmurs, “I want to kiss you too.” Nick’s staring at him already and Louis flushes in anticipation as they keep up the eye contact for a few beats. Then Nick moves in, one shaky hand brushing across Louis’ cheekbone on the way to the back of his neck. His fingers gently twist the hair at his nape and Louis’ hardening dick twitches at the unexpectedly soft touch. 

Their first kiss is nothing to write home about; their smiles making it harder than it should be. But it doesn’t take long for the giddiness to slide it something serious. Louis starts to get a feel for Nick’s lips against his and soon Nick parts easily for him and they’re full on making out—tongues exploring, hands exploring—and Louis still feels like this is some cosmic joke, that he’s able to cup Nick’s jaw with his hands, playing with the long hair grazing his nape, and taste that peppermint gum that he always seems to chew. His hands move down Nick’s arms—squeezing when a particular roll of Nick’s tongue has him moaning—and then to the long line of his waist. He pulls Nick closer, running his blunt nails down his back. 

And then Nick flips them, so Nick’s body is pressing him into the mattress and Nick adjusts and starts kissing Louis’ neck. Louis’ body arches into Nick’s as a shiver goes down his spine. 

He turns his head to give Nick better access and sees that his phone is lighting up with a series of texts. He doesn’t want to go to dinner, never wants to leave from his place under Nick, so he untangles his fingers from where they were twisting into Nick’s shirt and throws the phone across the room where it lands on the carpet with a dull thud. 

No more interruptions. 

Nick rucks up Louis’ shirt and runs a hand over the plane of his chest, then slowly tracks the curve of his waist with his thumb. “Love your body,” he mumbles before peeling Louis’ shirt off. Louis shivers at the long hard look Nick gives him. There were occasional flashes, where Louis thought he had seen that look in Nick’s eyes before, but it was always gone just as quick. Now the glare makes him feel stripped bare. 

“Off, off.” Louis pulls at Nick’s shirt. He needs to draw his own attention elsewhere. 

“Yeah?” Nick asks. 

“Yes. Please.” Louis keeps struggling to pull it off with no help from Nick. “Off. Now.” With a deep breath, Nick finally nods and wiggles enough for Louis to pull it over his shoulders. When both shirts are tossed to the side, Nick takes his rightful place back on top of Louis and continues their makeout session. Louis’ pretty sure he could kiss Nick all night, but he’s also pretty sure he’s getting stubble burn and his lips feel swollen and near numb from the pressure. 

There’s a part of him that thinks they should take it slow. They are roommates after all, roommates who appear to hate each other. And now that this thing between them might actually be a thing, he doesn’t want to ruin it. 

He runs his nails across Nick’s nipples and then down the sides of his chest, feeling the grooves of his ribs. “This okay?” Louis asks. The hard length of Nick’s dick pressed against his thigh is distracting and Louis wants to get his hands on it. 

He hopes Nick is still on board. If Nick’s getting shipped back to England, Louis wants to get some while he’s still around to give it. 

“Yes, more. Want…” Nick ducks in close, planting a kiss on the jut of Louis’ Adam’s apple, then sucks and bites along Louis’ throat until he’s letting out these embarrassing moans and catching himself humping Nick’s leg. 

“What? What do you want?” It’s a struggle to get the words out, but their communication has thus far been pretty terrible and Louis wants to give him everything he wants. 

Nick takes his time though, eventually working his way down Louis’ chest, flicking and pulling at his nipples while scraping his teeth down the vertical line of his abs. Louis’ nerves are on fire and he wants—needs—Nick go to lower faster. 

“Fuck, Lou, how are you this fit? Can’t believe I get to—”

“We don’t, engh, we don’t say ‘fit’ in America.”

Louis can’t stop himself from bucking into Nick’s touch as he works to unbutton and unzip his fly. Nick planks above him once his work is done, kissing him thoroughly before biting his lower lip. “Stop complaining about my compliments or I’m not going to suck your cock.”

Nick’s lips are wet and pink and Louis’ eyes fall shut because the image alone is too much. “Don’t wanna,” Louis pauses to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts for a moment. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Nick rolls off of him quickly. He’s breathing heavily and swipes a hand down his face. “We don’t have to… I didn’t mean…” He reaches down to adjust himself and Louis’ irrationally angry that he didn’t get to be the one to do it. 

Louis’ brain finally catches up to what he said. “Oh, no. Fuck. I totally want that. I’ve jacked off in the shower an ungodly amount, thinking about you doing that.” Nick makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “But I really want to fuck you tonight, and I’m pretty sure I’ll come in like three seconds if you blow me.”

The strangled sound turns into a moan and Nick peels off his jeans. “Yes. Yes, please. If you’re serious, yes. Please tell me you have condoms and lube.”

“I am. Up for it if you are you.” Louis gets his pants off as quickly as he can, shimmying out of them and his briefs at the same time. He racks his brain for where they can possibly be. “Backpack. Small pocket in front.”

Nick launches himself off the bed in the direction Louis is pointing. While he’s searching, Louis has to clamp down on the base of his cock because good lord this is actually happening and the thought alone has him close to shooting off. 

“Aha!” Nick lifts the booty and does a hilarious little dance that has Louis rolling his eyes. Nick’s super cute but he’s certainly not going to admit it. 

Nick tosses the strip of condoms and bottle of lube on the bed next to Louis then jumps onto the bed next to him. “How do ya want me?”

Louis feels like a cornball when he says, “Lay right there. Wanna see you.” But it’s true. 

Nick’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink. “Yeah, okay.” He runs his hands over Louis’ shoulders, and they feel so big there, enveloping the top of his arms. 

Louis checks in one more time. “This is okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick lets out a little laugh. “I’ve mostly thought of it the other way around, but this is… yeah. Yeah.”

Louis still can’t believe Nick has thought about doing this with him. Not when their other roommate looks like Harry, but Louis’s certainly not going to question it now when Nick’s legs are spread for him and he’s impatiently pushing the lube into Louis’ hands. 

The lube is cool on Louis’ fingers and he rubs them together to warm them up. Nick moves his unfairly long legs so they’re bent with his feet flat on the bed. 

“Hey, uh, Lou…”

Louis makes a little noise so Nick knows he’s listening, but he can’t draw his eyes away from the puckered skin and the way his finger looks gently running over it.

“Careful, yeah? It’s been a while.”

Louis quietly scoffs, because yeah right, he knows how often Harry sleeps in Nick’s room. He hates to poke the bear, but he’s a glutton for self-flagellation. “Not sure I’ll be as good as H,” he murmurs. “Fingers aren’t as long, but…”

Suddenly Nick’s propped up on his elbows, staring down at Louis. “What?”

“Hm?” Louis feigns innocence. “What?”

“You know it’s not like that, right? With Haz? We haven’t… not in ages. Like, years. It’s not… it’s really not like that with us.”

“Oh.” This time Louis’ cheeks heat with embarrassment and he hopes Nick thinks it’s from the arousal. He takes Nick’s flagging dick and gives it a few rough strokes, getting him nice and stiff again as he tucks the tip of his finger into Nick. 

“You had to have known that.“ Nick sounds incredulous. Like it was obvious. 

Louis really needs to stop thinking about Nick with anyone else. “Yeah…” 

As he works his finger further into Nick, Nick falls back on the bed with a groan. Once Nick is opened up, and Louis tortures him a bit by fingering him for a few more minutes after Nick starts to beg for Louis’ cock, Louis finally works a condom over himself. 

“Ready?” he asks as he rubs the tip over Nick’s rim. Nick nods once. Louis takes another deep breath because this is Nick, his roommate, who he’s had a crush on for ages, and if Nick is letting this happen then Louis wants to remember every moment of it. 

He slowly starts to push in. 

Nick gasps and fists at the sheets, then starts a quiet, slow chant. “More, more, more.” Louis pauses for a moment once he’s in as deep as he can go. Part of him still can’t believe this is happening, everything’s changed so quickly. He finds Nick’s hand and laces their fingers together. Nick’s head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, and Louis waits and waits, gulping in air and trying to keep still. The moment Nick rolls his hips, and utters a simple, drawn out “Lou,” Louis draws himself back and sets a brutal pace. 

He’s quite proud of the way he has Nick cursing and tensing. They’re both sweating, and Louis keeps thumbing the perspiration from Nick’s brow; he’s using any excuse to pull on a errant curl or run his fingers down Nick’s jaw. This isn’t going to last long and Louis kind of hates that this is going to be over so soon. 

Nick tenses and lets out an airy “ahhh” that lets Louis know he’s hit bullseye. He redoubles his efforts to find Nick’s prostate again, while trying to keep himself from coming. Nick hooks his legs behind Louis’ lower back, keeping him close, and Louis shifts from jack rabbiting into him into slower grinds that have them both moaning. 

Louis falls onto Nick’s chest, burying his face in Nick’s neck. Nick feels so good clenching around him and Louis needs something else to focus on. He raises Nick’s arms above his head, pressing his wrists down into the mattress, then scratches lightly all the way down to Nick’s pits. He can hear himself saying “Nick, Nick, Nick” in breathy little gasps and it’s too much, he’s already too earnest and wanton, and he doesn’t trust himself not to go too far, to say the words he’s definitely not ready to say, so he lifts himself up enough to start kissing Nick instead. 

Only a moment later Louis is so close to coming that there are tears in his eyes and he can do nothing but chase the feeling. His hips thrust erratically and he hopes this is good for Nick too, because now that he’s had a taste he’s going to want this all the time. 

“Bloody Hell, Lou, I’m gonna… gonna…” Before he’s able to finish the warning, Nick goes rigid under Louis and shoots off between them. Louis can’t believe he gets to witness this, how perfect Nick looks completely blissed out. His pupils are blown, red splotches are high on his cheeks, and his hair is an absolute disaster. And gets to feel it. Nick’s still clamped down around him and Louis has stilled, not wanting to miss a single moment of watching Nick fall over the edge. 

Louis wants to mark him. 

He pulls out gently, slides the condom off, and kneels between Nick’s splayed legs. He jerks himself, fast and rough, and when Nick runs his hand down the arm that’s keeping Louis balanced on Nick’s leg, Louis loses it, cock pulsing and body jerking, as he adds to the mess on Nick’s stomach. Louis’s transfixed by the way Nick’s whole torso rises and falls and he inadvertently ends up timing his breaths with Nick’s. 

After they come down from their highs, Louis traipses into the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth to wipe them—mostly Nick—down. Once they’re clean and Louis is curled around Nick, enjoying a post-orgasm snuggle, running his fingers through Nick’s chest hair, the reality of the situation sets in. 

Louis needs to know how much time they’ve wasted. “How long have you liked me?” 

Nick laughs. “You little shit.”

“What?”

“You go first.”

Louis feels like there’s probably going to be a lot of these competitions in his near future. He groans before he hedges his bets. “A while.”

“Hmm, yeah, me too,” Nick responds with a smirk. 

“I hate you.”

“Nah.” Nick gives him a gentle pinch to the side. He sing-songs, “You _liiiiike_ me.”

“I do.” Louis tucks his face into Nick’s armpit so he can’t see the stupid smile he tamps down. “I’ve liked you, for like… um, since that night at Akbar.”

“Which night at Akbar? There have been many nights at Akbar.”

“Right. Um, the first one?”

Nick shoves Louis away. “Seriously? The first night we met?”

Louis feels his cheeks flush. “I hate you.”

“I think we’ve concluded that you don’t, actually.”

A loud knock at the door interrupts them. They look at each other with wide eyes until there’s a few more knocks. “Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away,” Nick whispers. 

“Come on guys, open up.” It’s Harry on the other side. “I pulled the short straw. Need to make sure you haven’t killed each other.”

Louis groans. “We both know he’s not going away.” He untangles his legs from Nick’s and yanks the duvet off the bed and wraps it around his waist, the majority of it trailing behind him. He unlocks the door and opens it a crack to face Harry. 

“I… fuck.” Harry’s eyes roam Louis’ chest. “So, okay. This…” he waves his hand in front of Louis, “mauling, that Nick gave you, good or bad?”

“Good… very good. Very… very… good.”

“Gross.” Harry shakes his head. 

“Why are you here?”

“Neither of you were answering our texts—makes sense now—but we were all a little worried.”

“Nah, we’re fine.”

“Clearly.”

“So… we’re good here? Can I get back to…?”

“Gross. Yes. Bye.” Harry turns on his heel and heads down the hall. 

Louis closes the door and drops the duvet. He struts back to Nick. “Ready for another round?” 

 

 

 **SUNDAY**

In the morning Louis finds himself as the small spoon, since Nick is wrapped around his back. He snuggles that much closer, hoping to drop back to sleep for a little while longer. The previous night, as he drifted off, he came up with a plan that he hopes Nick will go along with. But he really wants a bit more sleep before he has to sell him on the idea. 

“You up?” Nick whispers in his ear. 

“No,” Louis protests and burrows his head under his pillow. 

Nick tightens his arms around him. 

“Is this you avoiding me?”

Louis’ able to wiggle his arms up to the pillow. He grabs it and whips it around, surprising Nick when it hits him in the face. 

“I hate you and you should know by now that I need my sleep.” He falls back into the fetal position. 

Nick kisses the back of Louis’ head; Louis’ stomach does a funny little flip. “Lou, it’s too early, everyone else is still asleep, you have to entertain me.”

Louis refuses, _refuses,_ to let Nick see his smile. He takes a few moments to tuck it away before he’s able to speak. Nick would be able to see right through him, that bastard. 

“Is this what it’s going to be like now?” Louis manages to get himself sitting up. He runs his fingers through his hair and thinks about what a mess it must be. Nick’s is a mess too, matted down on side, swooping unnaturally on the other. “Since you’re up, get my beanie.”

Nick huffs, but still stands up. He reaches his hands to the ceiling in a stretch and Louis loves that he can unabashedly stare now. 

“The grey one, not the navy one.”

“How many bloody beanies did you bring to the desert?”

Louis scowls at him. “First you wake me up, then you complain about my clothes. Really Nicholas, it’s like you don’t want a good morning blowie.”

“ _Au contraire._ That sounds like the perfect pre-breakfast activity.”

Nick climbs back into bed and wiggles the hat on Louis’ head before kissing him senseless, then takes Louis up on his offer. 

✩✩✩

Once they finally leave the bed, then drag themselves out of the shower, then figure out what Louis’ going to wear, then go all the way to down the hall for clean clothes for Nick, the rest of their friends have already left for the restaurant for their late lunch. 

“C’mon, Nick,” Louis whines. “I’m hungry.” The bathroom door is still closed, Louis’s lost track of how long Nick’s been in there ‘making himself presentable’ and it’s possible he’s slid out of consciousness a few times on account of how bored he is. 

“Just a tick,” is Nick’s muffled response. 

Louis prepares his joke—something about his crow’s feet or how all that time and he still looks the same—but when Nick opens the door, Louis’ brain seems to short circuit for a moment. He does, basically, look the same. Same gorgeous eyes and fashionably grungy outfit, but there’s something in his smile now, a lightness that had been missing from Nick’s bright face over the past few weeks. 

When he looks up at Nick, their eyes connect and the joke on the tip of his tongue is forgotten. Louis blinks, takes a deep breath, and says, “Marry me.”

Nick literally trips on air as he crosses the threshold. “What?”

Louis slides off the bed and onto one knee. “Fuck. Nick. This is… I mean, not ideal? I’m really, _really,_ not a ‘propose to the guy the first morning after’ type of guy. But I can’t…” Louis can’t quite read the expression on Nick’s face. “I just got you. I can’t lose you.” It’s not horror, Louis supposes, but something akin to it, but he can’t quite stop the words from spilling out. “Did you know London is eight hours ahead of LA? How the fuck would we ever find time to talk?”

“You looked up the time difference?”

“Really not the point right now.” Louis doesn’t know what a reasonable about of time is to wait on bended knee for an answer. 

“Kinda is.”

Louis rolls his eyes and gets up. 

Nick grabs his biceps, keeping him from sitting back down. Or running away. “You looked up the time difference. You were really going to miss me, huh?”

“You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“Yes.” Nick’s voice has such a soft quality, and Louis is momentarily distracted by the way he looks when he’s biting his lip. 

“Yes what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Yes, I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

“Oh, okay. Really?” 

Nick nods. 

“Uh, so tonight?” Louis asks.

Nick laughs. “Yeah? The whole point of this weekend was to get me hitched to my roommate. Better late than never. And uh…” Nick’s grip on his arms has loosened, and he slides one down to Louis’ waist and one up to the back of his neck. He pulls Louis in for a long, slow, deep kiss that has Louis’ knees weak by the end. “Better you than him.”

“Speaking of, should probably go tell them all, huh?”

“Guess we have to; we’ll need all the help we can get to pull this off by tonight.”

Louis groans as the reality of the situation starts to set in. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

✩✩✩

Telling their friends ends up being the easy part. They walk into the restaurant holding hands, and Harry jumps up from his seat, knocking his glass of water into Pixie’s lap, while exclaiming, “I knew it!” 

As Pixie glares at them and pats her shorts with the cloth napkins, the rest of the table catches up to what’s happening. 

“Shit, Lou, you finally get yourself in order?” Niall asks. 

“Time to pay up.” Bressie slings his arm around Niall’s shoulder. 

Louis yowls in indignation. “I know you didn’t bet on this.”

Niall pretends to zip his lips, but then nuzzles into Bressie’s neck and Louis isn’t completely convinced Niall isn’t going to make good on his bet right here at the table. 

Nick clears his throat. “Right, well, we’d like to cordially invite you to our wedding tonight.”

“See you’re not wasting any time.” Rita laughs. 

Louis turns into Nick’s arms, burying his face in Nick’s chest. “Wasted too much already,” he manages to mutter. Nick’s arms tighten around him and Louis smiles.

“So, where we going? What’s the plan?” Alexa asks. 

“There isn’t one, is there?” Liam’s already picking up his phone. 

“’Course not!” says Louis. 

“That’s what we have you lot for,” Nick says. 

The rest of the group pulls out their phones too and they start to come up with a plan, so Louis elbows Harry and silently asks him to join him over by the bar.

“I know I should’ve talked—”

Harry interrupts him with a tight hug. “I have, like, a million questions.”

“Oh, um, okay. But first I want to apologize. I know I’ve been a total horror since, um…”

“Since Nick and I basically got engaged?”

“Uh, yes. Basically.”

“Can I ask? That night… when he was explaining about his job, why didn’t you… I mean, I thought I set you up perfectly. He needed a green card. You were already in love with him… but you didn’t take the bait. Neither did he, for that matter.” Harry rolls his eyes. 

Louis sputters and replays that dinner over in his head. “No. You. What? You were suggesting that _we_ get married? I thought. I assumed _you_ wanted to since you brought it up.”

“What?” Harry laughs, loud and long, attracting the attention of some of the nearby tables. “Obviously I was willing to because I didn’t want half of my best friends to move across the world, but it’s not like, I _wanted_ to marry Nick.” 

“Oh.”

“Honestly? Lou, what kind of shit friend would I be, marrying the man you’re in love with for no reason at all.”

“Shhhh,” Louis flaps his hands in Harry’s direction. “I’m not… I don’t love him.” He quickly glances over to the table where Nick is telling a story with some complicated hand motions. “Fuck. Why would you think—”

“Because you do.” Harry looks confused but continues, “You’ll realize it soon enough. Lou, I needed your blessing because I wasn’t willing to lose your friendship to keep Nick here. All the times I asked if you were okay with it, and every time you had a look of panic but told me it was fine.”

“I thought you were sleeping with him!” 

That definitely catches the attention of the closest tables. Again. Louis lifts his hands in apology and mouths ‘sorry’ before turning back to Harry, who seems to have frozen on the spot. 

“You thought I was fucking Nick? Even though you had a crush on him?”

“Well I didn’t know!”

“You should have known! Fuck. Okay. So, I mean, we have. Like twice, forever and ever ago, before I think you two ever met. But we’re not… no. No. No. Definitely not since he moved in. You two are like… wow. You two deserve each other with how oblivious you are.”

If they weren’t in a public space Louis would’ve taken him down in a tickle fight for a comment like that. But they are. And Louis would actually very much like to get back to his boyfriend. Fiancé, technically. “So to be totally clear. You’re not upset I ruined your wedding and Nick and I have your blessing?”

Harry pulls Louis into another, tighter, hug. “Relieved actually. My mom would have killed me if we had gone through with it. Suppose you were too drunk to realize, but Bressie’s been making fun of me all day for how scared I, apparently, looked up there. And it’ll be nice not to tiptoe around the elephant in the room—your giant unspoken crushes on each other—in my own apartment from now on. I’m glad you guys got your shit together.”

Louis gives him a few solid pats on his back and pulls him back to the table. 

Nick cocks his head when they get closer, and mouths, ‘everything okay?’ Louis smiles, walks past his own chair, and sits right on Nick’s lap. He smacks a kiss on Nick’s cheek before turning to the rest of the table. 

“So, how’s the wedding planning going?” 

✩✩✩

After Nick and Louis secure their marriage license, they head back to the hotel, leaving the rest of their friends with strict instructions to send pictures once they find, in no particular order: rings, a proper suit for Louis, celebratory dinner reservations, decorations, and a location that doesn’t scream ‘this is a last minute Vegas wedding,’ even though it totally is. 

Louis flops back on the bed and runs his hands down his face. He knows his mom is going to be furious at missing his wedding. He also knows that if he tells her after the fact it’s going to be so much worse. With only a few hours to go, he’s already cutting it way closer than he should. Nick is hovering awkwardly on the other side of the room, they clearly haven’t perfected this relationship thing yet. He’s nibbling his lower lip at a worrying pace. 

“Cold feet?” Nick finally asks. 

“No, not… I’m surprisingly okay with the wedding.” Louis opens his arms and beckons Nick to come closer. 

Nick lies down opposite, his socked feet up by Louis’ head on the other pillow. Nick kisses Louis’ ankle. 

“You’re so weird.”

Nick hums. “Yep. Have I told you that I love your ankles?”

“No, you weirdo.”

“Well I do.” Another kiss, this time to the soft spot between the bone and his heel. “You have really great ankles.”

“Enjoy them while you can. I’m pretty sure my mom is going to kill me. Or you.”

Nick goes quiet. After a few long minutes, he tentatively asks, “Is she going to hate me forever?”

“Only one way to find out.” Louis sits up to reach for his phone. 

“Could just tell her after,” Nick says. 

Louis shakes his head. “Gonna do it now, before I lose my nerve.”

Nick rolls off the bed and starts pacing. “Want me to leave?”

“No. Need you here.”

Nick nods, then heads into the bathroom. He keeps the door open and Louis can see him put his hands on the counter and take a few deep breaths before attempting to style his hair. 

The phone rings and rings. Louis thinks it’s going to go to voicemail and he contemplates what she’ll do if he leaves the news in a message verses having her find out afterwards. If he leaves a string of missed calls she’ll probably take the first flight to LA to see what the emergency is. Just as he’s about to hang up though, her voice comes through. 

“Boo!” She whooshes out a breath. “Sorry, was trying to find the phone in the other room.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” 

“Can I call you right back? I know we have our standing Sunday afternoon call”—Louis realizes he forgot all about that—“but I’m up to my elbows in this new dish, I saw the recipe on the Food Network. It’s a Tex-Mex casserole, and I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Oh, um, actually. Real quick. There is something.”

Nick pops his head out from the bathroom, his knuckles white where he’s gripping the jamb. 

“You know Nick, my uh, roommate?”

“Of course, dear. Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Um, it’s just that we’re… um…” Nick’s forehead furrows and Louis is seriously concerned for his lower lip the way he’s working it over with his teeth. “Together?”

“Oh!” She clearly wasn’t expecting that. “He’s very nice, but I didn’t think you…”

Louis can’t explain it all now. He wants to tell her and get off the phone and bury his head in Nick’s chest for a bit. Maybe swap some more blow jobs. Then get on with their very important day. 

“It’s a long story. One that I’ll definitely tell you when you have more time.”

“Okay, well as long as you’re happy.”

“No, wait. I mean, that’s not all…”

Nick gives a little nod, urging him to continue. 

“Honey, are you sure you’re alright?”

“We’re getting married.”

There’s a long silence. Louis even pulls the phone away from his ear to make sure she hasn’t hung up on him. 

“Mom?”

“What? When? What do you mean?”

“Um. We’re in Vegas—”

“Louis William Tomlinson. Do not say what you’re about to say.”

Louis cringes. “Tonight. We’re, uh, getting married tonight.”

He hears his mom sniffle from her house in San Diego, and it breaks his heart more than he was expecting. He hates letting her down. 

“It’s, uh, we have a good reason.”

“I’m sure you do, Boo. I just can’t believe I’m not going to be there.”

He doesn’t know how to make this right. Nick looks as awful as he feels, the frown on his face nearly etched in at this point. 

“Do you love him?”

Louis takes a deep, shaky breath. He pauses before he answers, looking over at Nick with his floppy hair and his concern over Louis’ conversation and the way he can’t stay still even for a moment, and he knows that it’s silly to pretend otherwise. 

“Yeah.”

“Then you have fun tonight, baby. Take lots of pictures. And we’re going to have a very long talk in the near future.”

He loves his mom a lot. 

“Um, maybe…” He’s throwing this out there on a whim and Nick better be willing to go along with it if his mom likes the idea. “Maybe in a year or two, we can do it again, like in front of you guys…” He finally catches Nick’s eye. “And Nick’s family too.”

His mom goes quiet again, and this time he waits patiently for her to respond. Nick’s got a stupid smile on his face and Louis’ heart pounds a little faster. 

“Yeah, Lou, that’d be nice,” she finally says softly. 

“I love you. Enjoy your casserole.”

“You enjoy your night. And give that fiancé of yours a hug from me, alright?”

“Will do, Mom. Love you.”

“You too.”

He ends the call and launches himself into Nick’s arms. They don’t quite have the time for those blow jobs Louis was thinking about, because as soon as Louis tucks himself against Nick’s body, Nick says he has something important to say. 

“Okay?” Louis is immediately on edge. Conversations that start that way are generally bad, Louis’ learned. “You’re not breaking up with me already, are you?”

Nick snorts out a laugh. “Not a chance. No. I don’t think I’ve said it yet, so I want to make sure I thank you, for doing this.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I know this is a big thing. And it’s certainly unconventional with the way we’re doing it, but it’s not a little thing and I want you to know that I know that. So yeah, thank you for not making me uproot my entire life.”

Louis’ not thought of it in those terms, though he supposes Nick is right. He mostly can’t stand the thought of losing Nick before they give this thing they have a real chance. He blinks up at Nick, who runs his tongue over his bottom lip. 

He can’t resist. Louis tilts his head up and kisses Nick. They get to make out for a bit, enough that Louis’ sure his hair is a mess, but they’re interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 

Nick gets up to get the door and once it opens Louis hears Harry. “I come bearing suits.” Harry enters the room and kisses Louis on the forehead before draping two garment bags on the bed, Nick following into the room after. 

Harry hovers around them as they get dressed and finalize their hair styles, offering up opinions and acting as a deciding vote when they can’t agree on which socks they should wear. 

They don’t get another moment alone until Louis moves into the bathroom to brush his teeth and Nick scampers in after him, locking the door behind him. They brush their teeth side-by-side, catching each other’s eyes in the mirror occasionally. Once they’ve both spit and rinsed, Nick takes both of Louis’ hands in his own. 

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I know this isn’t the wedding you’ve always dreamed of, so whenever you want, someday in the future we can do it again, for real.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Louis shrugs. “This feels pretty real to me. And all the stuff is really just extra. You. You’re the part that matters.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Nick jokes. He squeezes Louis’ hands. “Feels pretty real to me too.”

“Ready?” Harry asks, rapping his knuckle on the door. “Don’t want to be late.”

Louis and Nick smile at each other, and after sharing a tiny nod, they answer in unison. “Ready.” Nick unlocks the door, and they’re off, hand in hand, ready to get married. 

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you as always to [gettingaphdinlarry](http://www.gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) for your beta help. Always worth the wait <333 
> 
> And I also want to send out a thanks to [wedidgood](http://www.wedidgood.tumblr.com) for being such a great cheerleader and always being willing to read my Tomlinshaw!
> 
> This never would have come about if [fullonlarrie](http://www.fullonlarrie.tumblr.com) hadn't created this great, inclusive, collection. Thanks for the endless cheerleading and excitement. And the letting me ramble on and on and on with my ideas. 
> 
> There's a [rebloggable tumblr post here ](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/post/163367875078/title-lets-not-fight-in-vegas-author) if you liked it and want to spread the word!
> 
>  
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites. I'm not currently allowing translations either. Thank you for respecting my wishes.**


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